Gone
by Smiraffe11
Summary: What if Moriarty decided to make Sherlock dance one more time before Reichenbach? Let's see what happens when Sherlock and John's best friend gets into some trouble shall we.
1. From the Start

**This takes place from the end of Series One to the end of Reichenbach.**

**The OC of me (if you don;t like the fact that I have put myself into the story please read the open letter on my profile) has known the boys for all years of Uni, however she knew/met only Sherlock during 1st year, met John during 2nd, it should be assumed that The Blind Banker and The Great Game happened somewhere during the summer between her 2nd and 3rd year. A Scandal in Belgravia (other than the beginning which should have taken place while she was away) should take place most of her 3rd year, but more in the 2nd semester and Hounds of Baskerville and The Fall of Reichenbach happen between her 3rd and 4th year. The story written here should take place in 1st semester year 3.**

**Now that I have the time line out of the way, enjoy the story and please review without them I get bored:)**

My life ended the day I was kidnapped and it began again the day Sherlock Holmes found me. My name is Tristan Curtis and this is my story.

I was back in London for my third year of conservatory school and was settling back into my flat when a report came on the news.

"Sherlock Holmes does it again. The illustrious Shadow Killer has been caught. We go now live to the scene for an interview with Inspector Lestrade."

*BZZZZZZZ* 'So what did you think? -SH'

'Brilliant as usual. Headed over when I'm done unpacking. - TC'

'Oh and say hi to John. - TC'

'Hi - JW'

'Hi, headed to the tube. - TC'

I got off and headed toward Baker Street to see my two best friends, well I say two, but Sherlock is Sherlock. I stopped just once at the chinese restaurant next door to grab our favorite soup and some kung pao chicken.

"Boys," I say knocking on the door, "Mrs. Hudson, anyone, hello?"

"John, get the door," comes Sherlock's brooding voice through the door.

"You're closer, why don;t you get it?" there's John.

"I'm experimenting!"

"Oh, stop it both of you! I'll get it!" there's the voice of Mrs. Hudson, my savior from the cold. "Hello dear." she says in her usual sweet voice.

"Hello, Mrs. Hudson, they were well over the summer I presume?"

"Well, yes and no, but you know how they get."

"And exactly how is that?" John says as he walks into the foyer, "Hello, Tristan, long time no see. How was home?"

"Home was okay, but you know me British at heart." I hug him, "How's life, you know Sherlock, cases, girlfriends? Find anymore body parts in the fridge?"

"Life's been okay, we're becoming internet phenomenons."

"So I hear, I read the blog remember?"

"Not much on the love life front, a few spare girlfriends every now and then, and of course the accusations in the papers."

"Sorry to hear that, now should we get this food to the kitchen?"

"Yes, but we'll have to eat off trays, he's using the table to..."

"Experiment, I heard." I say as we star up the stairs, "Right then, Sherlock, you can stop now, I'm here." I say snatching the petri dish from him.

"I was working!" he yells.

"Hello to you too, then." he suddenly puts on his thinking face, "Alright what have you deduced?"

"You went to San Diego this summer, finally made it to comic con. Home was okay, but mostly the usual hell. You brought back more than you took there, your citizenship must have worked out, gearing up toward a permanent move? Plus before you came back to London you traveled to Cardiff, went to a couple of conventions and tried to see Doctor Who filming with your writer friend from Cheffield."

"All correct as usual, thanks for saving me from the stories, most of them boring. Saw you on telly, in America would you believe it, love the hat." I smirk.

"It's not my hat, why does everyone love the hat?"

"Oh, come off, I'm just joking, How about a hug then, Mr. Cheekbones?' I reach forward and he reciprocates the hug, less awkward than usual.

"I smell soup. The group favorite from the chinese next door and chicken, kung pao I believe."

"You once again deduce correctly Sherlock. I hope you boys are hungry." We opened the food and started into light conversation, well light for Sherlock. "Alright boys there is one thing I definitely want to know about and I don't the boiled down version. I want the real one. Tell me about the pool."

"Well..." John starts.

"No," Sherlock interrupts.

"C'mon Sherlock you can't hide anything from me. I've already read John's blog, but I want the first hand story."

"No."

"Yes," John says, "We should tell her."

"And why should we do that?"

'Because she's our best friend and she deserves to know."

"All I really want to know is exactly how he escaped." I defend.

"Moriarty got a phone call."

"Yes, I read that, what do you mean he got a phone call?"

"A better offer," Sherlock answered back curtly, "He had changed his mind, came back and suddenly his phone rings. He screamed at the person on the line. He got a better offer."

"Do you think he'll ever come back?"

"Uh yes, he promised." with that Sherlock went silent.

"I'm sorry promised?"

"Basically told Sherlock that he would burn him."

"Burn him? How exactly?"

"We have absolutely no idea."

"Well that's re-assuring. Anyways boys, lovely to see you, I'll pop back later, but I've got class in the morning."

"Bye, Tristan, thanks for the dinner."

"Bye, John. No goodbye Sherlock?"

"Bye."

**I hope you liked it.**

**Remember: Reviews are as awesome as Benedict Cumberbatch's cheekbones!**

**I know the writing style is not that good this chapter, but it will get better I promise.**


	2. Replica

**Updates on this story are gonna be very fast.**

**It's all in my head, I just have to write it down.**

**Thanks for reviews and more are welcome.**

**Warning you know that from know on the story will switch perspectives, but there wont't be a story with out it.**

**Enjoy Sherlock Dancing For Me - M**

He was waiting for me when I got back to my flat. The second I stepped in the door two men grabbed me while he laughed.

"You're his friend right? I've already used John, so this time why don't I use you, sweet cheeks?"

"Get off me. He'll find me, he will cause I know exactly who you are." I stare down his eyes with a deep angry with just a fleck of fear.

"And who is that?" He's still laughing.

"Moriarty." I can tell he's a bit a scared that I know his name although his eyes still fleck with anger.

"Get her phone!" he orders his henchies, trying to ignore the fact that I just stated his name, essentially proving that not every person is stupider than him and Sherlock. The man who was holding my right arm hands Moriarty my phone. He snatches it with a grin, "Time to send your dear Sherlock a message."

**-Baker Street-**

"Sherlock, your phone just went off," John states as he walks into the living room.

"Jacket.'

"Of course, why would it be any where else?" John reached into Sherlock's jacket and grabbed the phone, "It's from Tristan." he's says reading out the display.

"Probably left something as usual."

"No, Sherlock, I don't think so."

'Sorry Sherly. I want to see you dance one more time. So how about a little game to save your friend - M' and up popped a picture of me.

"John, call Lestrade and tell him to meet me at Tristan's address." with that Sherlock threw on his coat and flew out the door.

**-Undisclosed-**

I woke up in a haze, "Where am I? Moriarty, what have you done?"

"Oh, look who's awake. Did you have a nice nap?" James Moriarty steps out of the shadows with a creepy smile accented by the dim light. One thing is obvious to me right away, it's obvious that he will try to make Sherlock play some sort of game in order to assure my safety and I automatically lean back in the faith that I know exactly what clever thing Sherlock will want me to do. Time to play dumb and scared for Moriarty's little game, but in this I remember to be just clever enough that he doesn't decide to kill me anyway.

"He'll find me you know. You can play any game you want, but be rest assured Sherlock will find me."

"Oh, Honey, I'm counting on it." he calls over his shoulder as he stalks back into the shadows.

'Alright, Tristan, clever time, deduce, Find out where you are just like Sherlock taught you.' I think as I start my investigation making sure I look frantic. It's dark, but I can still see. I'm sitting in some sort of plush chair, wait a second, I recognize this chair. I look farther across the room and realize that I Moriarty has put me in an exact replica of Baker Street.

**-My Flat-**

"Tristan!" Sherlock runs into my flat screaming my name. Suddenly he stops, dead center, right in front of a sealed envelope. With a sense of excited appherhension he picks it up.

'Hello Sherlock,

I wanna play a game.

I do hope you'll play along.

Guess the steps and don't be wrong.

Your skills of deduction, you will need.

To find your friend thing 221 B.

But quickly, make haste.

Or else she'll be made into waste.

- M :) (*)'

**-Replica 221B-**

It had gotten so late that I had fallen asleep on the couch when I was once again grabbed by two of Moriarty's henchmen. As they started to blind fold and gag me, an obvious percaution just like knocking me out earlier in case Sherlock had taught me something, I noticed Moriarty drop a single sealed envelope on the couch right where I was laying.

**Mwahahaha, I feel like Moffat weilding all this power.**

**Stay tuned.**

**Review Please.**

*** the smily face is supposed to be drawn like the one on the wall in 221 B, but I can't type that**


	3. Gotcha

**Hello again lovelies, how are you?**

**Thanks for the reviews!:)**

**Just a little info, this story will take you all the way through Reichenbach.**

**However the will only be reactions to the episodes and no big changes. **

**There will be a minor change in the number of gunmen Moriarty has pointed at Sherlock's friends to accommodate the new character (3 gunmen will become 4).**

-My Flat-

John and Lestrade rushed into my flat only to find Sherlock laying on my couch with his hands folded. It was obvious that he had gone to his mind palace. He acknowledged their existence just slightly by pointing his folded hands at the envelope on the coffee table.

"I think he wants us to read it." John whispered to Lestrade as he picked up the letter and read it, "It's a riddle."

"That would explain Sherlock's silence however it is quite nice." Lestrade whispered back.

"Will you two shut up!" Sherlock yelled as he stood up, "Lestrade, tell me, are there any abandoned factories nearby? Preferably ones that dealt with waste of any kind."

"We passed one, didn't we John? I think it was the old dump."

"That's perfect, we need to go there now."

"Why Sherlock?" John asked regretting it the second he finished.

"Didn't you read it 'be made into waste', obviously she's somewhere that waste is involved. Most likely one with office space that he can convert."

"Office space for what?"

"For conversion, the one part of the riddle 'think 221b' there's something about our flat involved, maybe he has created a flat."

"Should we go?" Lestrade chimed in.

"Now." Sherlock said sweeping out the door.

-Undisclosed-

This time they have thrown me into a replica of Sherlock's bedroom. Which i recognize every detail of after 5,000 "Danger Night" searches, I'm the only one who can remember his sock index. I am sitting on the bed just waiting and I start to think about the boys.

'It was the first show of my first year of conservatory when our director announced that the PI Sherlock Holmes was seated in the audience, living in America the only information I knew about this Mr. Holmes was that he could see through everything. As the director reminded us to do our best the other cast members looked nervous, but I knew exactly what to do. That night I gave the most believable performance that I had ever given. Sherlock approached me as I was walking back to my dorm.

"That was a brilliant performance. You almost had me fooled."

"Thank you mister..."

"Sherlock Holmes and according to the playbill you are Tristan Curtis."

"You're fucking kidding me. We were informed that you were in the audience and could see through anything. From the look on the experienced cast members I guessed that I didn't have a chance in hell of fooling you. Pleased, completely and totally, to meet you." I shake his hand.

"I'm glad my comment flattered you. Listen you seem clever, if you ever want to know how to be really clever drop by my flat. It's 231 D Bleaker Way."

"That may just be an offer I can't refuse."

A week later I dropped by Bleaker Way and eventually had my "official" meeting with Mycroft, since then Sherlock and I have been "friends". After about a year Sherlock moved to 221 B Baker Street and I met his new flat mate, Dr. John Watson, and of course we become friends as well...'

-Taxi-

John nudged Sherlock, "It's Moriarty, isn't it? He's back and now he's got our best friend."

"That seems to be the case."

"So he's back?" Lestrade asks.

"I suppose that we're stating the obvious now." Sherlock snapped back.

"Sherlock, what about Tristan." John asked sentimentally.

"She's clever, she'll know exactly what to do."

-Replica Bedroom-

Resigning to my fate of boredom until they move me again I laid back on the bed. That's when I noticed there was an intercom attached to the ceiling. It was obvious from the beginning that Moriarty has surveillance on me, but what I didn't know was that he could talk to me without showing his face, this was a game changer. I make a clever decision and begin to act as though I am crying.

"Oh dear, don't cry. I will take care of you." as if on cue Jim's laughing sarcastic voice comes over the intercom. I put on my best scared face and scream.

"Why, why are you doing this?"

"I will answer all at dinner. Take a right, first door on your left." his sentence is punctuated with the click of a door lock. I do as I'm told and head to dinner.

-The Dump-

"Alright boys, let's split up," Leastrade ordered the second they stepped inside, "I'll take this floor, John you take the second, and Sherlock search the third."

"And who put you in charge?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock it's a good plan and we're following it." John said sternly.

"I didn't say it wasn't a good plan. I just asked who put Lestrade in charge." Sherlock snapped, "And yes we'll follow it. Laters." and with that he ran off to the stairs.

-Undisclosed-

"Please eat," Jim Moriarty motions eerily toward the plate of food without looking up from his phone. I start taking slow bites as Moriarty looks up from his phone, 'We're going to have a visitor." and I don't hear much else because I pass out.

-The Dump-

Sherlock stopped short when he realized that the room he was standing in was a replica of his living area. 'She was here." he thought staring across the room he saw an envelope.

'Gotcha - M :)'

Then Sherlock passed out.

**Mwahahaha, what shall happen to our heros and what about John?**

**All will be answered and more in Chapter 4.**

**Reviews are great:)**


	4. Daedalus

**This is gonna be a short chapter, but here comes a big reveal.**

**Enjoy and review.**

I awake in what I realize to be the second replica of Sherlock's bedroom.

"Oomph," I hear a familiar voice from next door. I run to the wall and press my ear against it.

"Sherlock? Is that you?" no reply, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I do believe I am. Are you? Has he hurt you?" comes a hasty reply.

"No, I'm fine. What does your room look like?"

"My bedroom, your's?"

"The same, this is the second replica of this room for me."

"Curious."

"The time for idle chat is over. Please check your closets." Moriarty orders over another loudspeaker. Inside I find a pair of yoga pants, sturdy tennis shoes, a tank top, a light jacket, and a backpack full of survival supplies.

"Change." comes Moriarty. By that order I can easily assume that Sherlock received relatively the same thing.

"Sherlock, why do you suppose he left us survival gear?"

"It's obvious he wants us to play a game, but what?"

"Listen to the story I have to tell. Sir Daedalus built it well. Through the maze, you will go. To find each other. Don't give up hope. Five days to make it through or else you'll face a terrible truth. Good luck!" Moriarty answers Sherlock's question over the intercom.

"Sherlock, did he say Daedalus, isn't that the legendary creator of the Labyrinth?

"He is sending us into a maze. Follow what I taught you and stay clever." Sherlock "encourages".

"one favor for me then, stay alive." I say.

"You too." *Click*

-The Dump-

John made his way up to the third floor after finding nothing on the second.

"Sherlock," his voice echoed, "She's not on the second floor." no answer, "Sherlock?"

Lestrade came rushing up the stairs, "They've taken Sherlock!"

-Labyrinth-

I threw my pack on and stepped out into the elaborate maze. It's noticeable that although our rooms were next to each other, Sherlock's door opened to some where else than mine. Time to be clever because who knows what Moriarty has put in here.

"Sherlock, I'll find you." and I start running.

hahahaha, what do you think?

Want John to kick some ass, want some BAMFY Greg, and some great action from our heros?

Tune into Chapter 5.

Please review or I will sick Moriarty on you!

:P


	5. The Race is On

**Hello again!**

**Thanks for the reviews and as always more would be lovely!**

**Enjoy! I love you!**

-Sherlock-

'God, I hate wearing sweats. I want my suits.' Sherlock selfishly thinks and immediately recoils, 'No that doesn't matter. Shut up, shut up, caring won't find her.' He comes to yet another fork in the maze and immediately begins to deduce the outcome of each choice.

-Me-

I had been running for over an hour when I finally stopped. Leaning against the wall of a dead end I pull the water from my pack. 'Be Clever' Sherlock's advice echoes in my mind and for once I feel like being anything but. I cry out, but immediately stop knowing that's not what he would want me to do, so I sat, drank, and stifled my cries.

-Sherlock-

He hears me cry out and automatically turned toward the sound straight into another fork.

"Tristan, can you hear me? Call out!"

-Me-

"Sherlock!" I scream and smile comforted by his voice. "I'm over here."

"Tristan!" he calls "Can you tell by my voice how close I am?"

"Yes, closer than before." This banter goes on for half an hour when I hear him closer than ever. I stand and run in the direction of his voice and straight into Sherlock.

-John and Lestrade-

They had been searching for hours and still no sign.

"I'm going." John stood up and left.

-Labyrinth-

"Sherlock!" I hug him and this time he reciprocates.

"Has he hurt you?" he asks worriedly.

"No, no, I'm fine. Especially now that you're here." I stifle a cry.

"Alright, Moriarty, we found each other. Let us go you've had your fun."

"You are free to let yourselves out, however you may want to find the dear doctor first." Sherlock and I exchange a knowing look.

"Sherlock, follow me."

-John-

"Good Lord, what happened?" John Watson rubbed the sore spot on his head. "Where am I?"

"Better start running." came a voice John knew all to well, Moriarty. "Your friends are looking for you."


	6. Release

**So, how did you like the last chapter?**

**I'm updating fast, aren't I?**

**Well I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Please review!**

We'd been searching for two days and still no John.

"Sherlock, come on stop. We need to eat. Dying of starvation won;t get us any closer to finding him." Two days and this is the first time it's been me urging the rest. I begin to pull some jerky and dried fruit out of my bag while Sherlock slumps beside me.

"Why I do believe we've suddenly switched roles." he smiles, the labyrinth has changed him.

"Yes, no eat up. This is all we get today."

-John-

He had no idea how long he had been in the maze, all John knew was that he had to find us at any cost. Tired and dehydrated John sat down as well, right against a wall that promptly flipped over, right into us.

"John!" Sherlock and I screamed simultaneously jumping up.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes, a little dehydrated, but fine. How about you two?"

"Fine, fine. Here drink." I hand him my canteen as Sherlock screams to the heavens.

"Alright, alright. I've played your game, now let us go!"

"Pleasure." his voice still makes me cringe, "Till the next time." as Moriarty finishes I fell a slight prick on my neck.

**What was the prick? **

**What will happen next?**

**All this and more in the next chapter.**

**Please review, you lovely people.**


	7. Moving On

**Welcome to Chapter 6**

**I hope you like it and please review:P**

The next thing I remember is waking up a week later in Sherlock's bed. As John tells it Moriarty knocked me out with a poison dart and then took me to a chamber in which I was tortured and starved for two days. When Sherlock found me I smiled and went comatose. As for the reasoning behind waking up in Sherlock's bed, it was where they put me after being released from St. Bart's only hours ago.

"Can I go home?" I ask weakly as John finishes.

"Yes, c'mon I'll take you, just in case." he stands.

"Bye, Sherlock." I call behind me as I stand to the silent figure in the corner.

Two weeks later I found myself at the door of 221B at 3 am in cold sweats.

"Tristan?" Sherlock asked with an inquistive look as to why I was there.

"Ca-ca-an I come in?" by this point I was crying.

"I suppose." he stepped aside. A moment later I was breaking down in front of the man who saved me about reappearing memories. I even mentioned about being apprehensive about my flat. It was then at 3 am on a Friday that I met Sherlock's compassionate side.

"You were still clever, the whole time. No matter how much he hurt you, you didn't utter a word." he pats my leg.

"What do you mean?" I asked holding his hand.

"I put you in danger. He tortured you for information on me, but you, clever girl, wouldn't tell him a thing." he gets up and walks to the window, I follow.

"Sherlock, you know it's not your fault right?"

"Yes. But you see people come after me and they use my friends to do so." I take his hand.

"Hey, it'll be alright. I can't go back to my flat, to many memories. How about I stay here and we can comfort each other?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." he smiles and I reciprocate because it makes me happy that in all my life, I was the one non-case related thing I'd seen him smile at. And that's how I ended up at Baker Street as Sherlock's second "normal" person live in.

**The rest of the story is going to be my character's view on some of the happening's in the boy's life.**

**I won't change any details of the episodes except for the amount of gunmen will change from 3 to 4.**

**Please review and I'll see you soon!**


	8. The Woman

**Welcome to another chapter of Gone.**

**Sorry it took me so long to update, but hopefully the sheer size of this chapter will make up for it. :)**

**This is the beginning of the episode based section, but I promise I will not disappoint. **

**Without further ado: Chapter 8, The Woman**

-Three Weeks Later-

When I walked into the kitchen that morning I discovered Sherlock in a bed sheet staring down his computer and an unfamiliar man on the couch. So it was just an normal day in Baker Street. I finished my cup of tea, waved goodbye to the two men, and rushed out the door to my classes.

I returned home for lunch to a quiet flat. Assuming that John and Sherlock had a case, I set their take out in the fridge, right next to the thumbs, and headed back out for afternoon rehearsal. *Bzzzzzz...* 'Sherlock's hurt. Need your help. - JW' I didn't think twice before excusing my self to the director and running straight back to the flat.

"John, what's wrong? I came as fast as I could." I rush in the door.

"He's fine, been knocked out is all." I breathed a sigh of relief at John's calm words.

"Who knocked him out?"

"The Woman." John answers with a stern glare.

"I'm sorry, who's the woman?"

"Official Secrets Act," was all he said, which gave me the sense that the case was more serious than I previously thought and my sense of curiosity heightened.

"C'mon, you can tell me. What's the worst they'll do? Sick Mycroft on me?" John laughs a bit at this.

"Oh I suppose I could tell you a little bit." He's such a pushover.

"Oh, please!" I flash him my geekiest smile.

"Have you ever heard of Irene Adler?" I shake my head in response, "I hadn't either until today. It all started this morning while I was Skyping Sherlock."

"Oh, that's what he was looking at." I interject.

"We were on a case that he refused to leave the flat for. The next thing I know, I've lost the connection and I'm riding a helicopter to Buckingham Palace."

"Please tell me Sherlock changed out of his bed sheet."

"Of course he hadn't," I giggle and make a big show of rolling my eyes, "Anyway we were informed that this Adler woman had some compromising photographs."

"How compromising?" I raise an eyebrow.

"She's a dominatrix, deduce." John says curtly, "Sherlock and I went off to her home to get the pictures. Where she proceed to flirt with Sherlock, mostly naked, while we were attacked by CIA agents who also wanted the photos. Later I came to find her hitting Sherlock with a riding crop. She had poisoned him." I wince remembering my own experience, "She took the phone that had the photo and disappeared. Plus, I think Sherlock might like her."

"This Irene Adler is mental. So googling her." John rolls his eyes, "What do you mean Sherlock might like her?"

"The combination to her safe, he knew it, it was her measurements."

"Oh."

"John!" Sherlock calls groggily from his bed. John gets up and walks to him.

"He thought Irene Adler had stopped by." John stated upon his return. I can tell that he looks worn out and that Sherlock is going to be an all night job, so I snap into caring friend mode.

"You look tired. Go to bed, I'll watch him."

"Are you sure? You've got classes tomorrow." He protests.

"It's not like I sleep normally. Go to bed, John."

"Fine." He gives in and slumps off.

-Several Hours Later-

*AH* I hear a noise come from Sherlock's room and go to check on him. I find him standing against the wall staring at his phone,

"Sherlock, what was that noise?"

"A text."

"From whom?" He just glares at me, "It's from her, isn't it? It's from the Woman." He gives a small nod and my curiosity swells once again, "C'mon, I'll make you some teas and you can tell me all about her." I grab his hand and help him stagger to the kitchen. We spend the rest of the night talking about The Woman.

I wake up the next morning in a chair next to Sherlock's bed, vaguely remembering something about choking on vomit and unattractive causes. Sherlock's no where in sight, but I can hear voices outside. Oh joy, My croft's stopped by, time for some fun. I grin a little, mess up my hair, and for added measure i take off my sweats and select the largest of Sherlock's shirts from his closet. I stride confidently out of the room glancing with a wink a Sherlock who smiles knowing that I'm playing our favorite game, Mess With Mycroft.

"Morning," I smile slyly back a Sherlock, "Boy I got barely any sleep, oh well." I make a big show of yawning. "Hello Crofty," he winces a bit as he rolls his eyes. My croft hates his nickname, "Nice of you to stop by." Sadly the game is cut in half when Mycroft leaves to answer his phone. Sherlock and I look at each other and burst into laughter while John and Mrs. Hudson stand by looking confused.

"I fell asleep on the chair in his room."

"Oh," John nods suddenly getting the joke. *AH*

"Another one?" I look sympathetically at Sherlock while Mrs. Hudson rants about the noise.

"He's been getting those all morning. Wait, the only way he could have that phone is if he had his coat..." John rambles.

"I'll leave you to your deductions." Sherlock pulls up his paper as Mycroft re-enters.

"Bond air is go. Bond air is go." He hangs up. Sherlock and I resume our game.

"Well, I ought to get some clean clothes on for class." I wink at Sherlock again, "See you boys." As I head out I kiss Sherlock's cheek for a little more effect and he tries his hardest not to recoil and smiles. I get Mycroft one more time on my way out, "Oh and Crofty say hello to Greg for me."

-Christmas-

*AH* Sherlock's phone breaks the awkward silence caused by his being an ass once again. This time towards poor Molly Hooper. Sherlock suddenly grabs a small package from the mantle and retreats to his room.

"Molly we apologize for our flat mate," John and I simultaneously issue out the standard apology.

"It's fine," she replies shakily taking another sip of wine.

"Are you sure?" I glance at John and he starts to walk towards Sherlock's room. He returns worriedly and mouths 'kitchen' to me. I excuse myself and and walk to him.

"He just called Mycroft.:

"What?" I give him a funny look. Sherlock almost never calls Mycroft willingly and especially on holidays.

"He thinks the Irene Adler is going to be found dead tonight."

"Why?"

"I have no idea." *Bzzz...* I am startled by my phone.

'Irene Adler found dead. It may be a danger night. Send Sherlock to St. Bart's. - MH'

"It's a text from Mycroft, he must know I know." I look at John, "He says danger nigh and we should get Sherlock to..." *Bzzzzz...* John checks his phone.

"St. Bart's. Mycroft just texted me." He sighed at the fact that we have to tell Sherlock.

"I'll tell him. You go convince Molly to do the autopsy."

"Oh yeah," John looks at me like I'm crazy, "I'll just say, 'Molly, I'm sorry Sherlock's such and asshole. Hey, you wanna come autopsy a woman that he's seen naked." I smile.

"That's why I picked Sherlock," I turn around and pad off towards his room. I knock on the door but step in before he can answer. Sherlock is sitting on his bed, his hands folded, staring straight forward,

"Sherlock," I break the silence, "We need to talk." I walk over and plop myself next to him.

"About what?" he says unchanging in his position.

"Mycroft texted me, they found Irene Adler."

"She's dead, I assume."

"Yes."

"She was right. She didn't last very long without her insurance." he shifts his hands slightly, pointing at a phone on the bed,

'Is that The Phone?" I ask already knowing the reply.

"Yes." He draws out his answer and vaguely sounds like Snape from Harry Potter, "It was in the package."

"Mycroft says they've got her at St. Bart's and you need to come ID her." he's silent as he stands and walks out of the room. I follow Sherlock out just to see him silently get into a cab. When I walk back upstairs I discover that Molly has left as well. John issues an apology to his date and she sits.

"He's gone." I say and we begin our search. 20 minutes later John sighs and answers his phone. Of course, Mycroft won't let him leave the flat and John loses yet another girlfriend. When Sherlock arrives he makes a snide comment about his sock index and goes quiet.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of Sherlock's violin. It was a new melody and a good one. I gave a glance to John as I entered the living room.

"He's composing.' John mouthed.

'Composing, why?' I mouthed back. He pointed to to his head and mouthed 'Thinking.'

"He's taking last night a little to well.' I mouthed my observation. John nodded in response, 'Bye, keep an eye on him.'

'I will.'

-New Years Eve-

I was confronted outside by a woman in black. So Mycroft has something to say on the matter.

After a long car ride, the woman puts me in a room above a warehouse and tells me to watch. I watch horror stuck as John confronts Irene Adler, alive and well. Cringing when I hear a familiar *AH* I want to run after Sherlock, but I want to talk to The Woman so I stay put. The second she steps in the room I go off on her.

"Do you have any idea what this will do to him? To both of them? It would have been better off if you stayed dead!" I give her a look that makes her cringe.

"I didn't think he would find out." She defends.

"And you thought telling John was the best way to do that? No body could hide anything from him, even if he didn't show up, he would know." We go off on each other for about an hour before I storm out.

I arrive at Baker Street to find it surrounded by police cars. I run through the crowd just to get stopped at the door by Lestrade. His face is a bit solemn and I fear the worst.

"What happened?" I ask in a startled and angry haze.

"Mrs. Hudson was attacked by an American."

"Is she alright?"

"She's fine, a little shocked. We gave her a blanket. The American is seriously injured though." I breathe a sigh of relief at the DI's words.

"How did he get injured?"

"Fell out of a window." Sherlock answered coming up behind us. "Lestrade, we need to talk." Realizing that they need to speak in private, I head up the stairs.

"John," he's comforting Mrs. Hudson, "Can we talk in private?" He nods in agreement and follows me further up the stairs.

"I've just had a lovely chat with Irene Adler." I say with a hint of sarcasm. John just stares in astonishment. "She made me watch as you two talked, but that's not the worst part. Oh and I may have punched her."

"She deserved it. What could be worse than watching that?"

"I saw him John after he got that text. I could have gone after him, but I didn't." I shed a small tear.

"It's alright. If you had done that we probably wouldn't have Mrs. Hudson anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Sherlock's the one who saved her. The American was here for the camera phone."

"Really?" John just nodded.

The rest of the night was a haze of comforting Mrs. Hudson, violin music, and trying to get answers out of Sherlock.

I came back late the next night, exhausted, to an empty flat. It was empty in the sense that no one was there, but there seemed to be some sort of tension in the air. I finished my dinner of Ramen and tea without milk, as usual we were out, and was headed back to my room when John walked in.

"Where did they go?"

"What do you mean they, I thought you guys had a case?"

"So they weren't here when you got back?"

"Late night rehearsal, I've been here half an hour max. Who?"

"Sherlock and The Woman."

-1 Month Later-

"I still can't believe that Mycroft agreed to meet us in a cafe." I said as John and I walked towards the Speedy's cafe near the flat. We were laughing at the utter rediculousity of Mycroft in a cafe. We found the man smoking outside and it was all I could do to stifle a giggle as we stepped through the door, but my smile soon faded as Mycroft told us the news.

Irene Adler was dead, for real this time, and Mycroft wants us to tell Sherlock that she got into Witness Protection. As we headed back towards the flat, I decided to follow John's lead. I take my chances as we approach Sherlock and breathe.

**I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Next chapter is Baskerville, then two big Reichenbach ones so yay!**

**Please review, they are as awesome as Benedict's Alan Rickman impression!**


	9. New Developments

**Hello, again.**

**Sorry it took so long to update.**

**This chapter was a bit fun to write actually.**

**Warning: Sherlock gets a bit OOC in this chapter, but it's thing in this world that late night and early morning Sherlock is different than day Sherlock. It will all be fine.**

**Enjoy!**

-Two Weeks Later-

"That was tedious." Sherlock was holding a harpoon that, like him, was covered in blood. I laughed at his comment about the tube. He's upon us the second he's cleaned up. Sherlock on no cases and no tobacco is not someone to be trifled with. Luckily, I flee before he goes any farther. Sitting on the tube, I breathe a sigh of relief and recount the last few days, especially one particular night a couple of days ago.

-Two Days Ago-

*Bang, Bang, Bang* I am thrusted awake by the sound of gunshots, again. I glance at the clock, 2 am, I roll my eyes and send a quick text to John.

'I'll take him tonight. You got him last night. Go to bed. - TC'

I didn't wait for a reply, I just pulled on my robe (or at least I thought I did) and walked out.

"Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?"

"Bored!" was all he shouted back. I wrestled the gun from his hand and engaged the safety. "Oi!"

"No, you're not getting this back!"

He strided over and lumped himself into his leather armchair, "Any why not?"

"Because it's dangerous," I said calmly, setting the gun on the other side of the room, "The things you're doing to yourself, Sherlock, they're not safe."

"And who are you to judge that?" I sat in John's chair across from him.

"I may not be, but it also makes others feel unsafe and it burns confidence."

"Well it's obvious that you feel safe and confident around me." his eyes narrow.

"What makes you say that?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You didn't bother to put on a robe." awkward silence ensued as my heart race quickened. Not thinking I stood up and ran to the nearest room, Sherlock's. I reached into the closet and pulled out a shirt, a purple button down. Once I had it buttoned (and I was no longer in my underwear), I gathered enough bravery to walk back into the living room. Sherlock was in his chair just sort of looking at me, he had a trace of a smile across his lips.

"Tea?" I asked weakly.

"I suppose." he stood up and walked to the kitchen. He only spoke again when he both held steaming mugs. "That purple suits you." he laughed a little.

"Oh does it?" I smile back.

'Yes." he smiled. Sherlock is a different person late at night, he smiles and is kind, I think it's because he believes that no one is watching. Of course John and i both know that's wrong.

"Well that smile suits you quite a lot."

"Really?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," I step over to him, "Living room?"

"Sure." we walked together and plopped on the couch.

"So tele?"

"Why not, how about you show me that sci-fi show you rave about?"

"Alright." I turned on Doctor Who: The Girl in the Fireplace and as we watched something just clicked. We started inching closer and closer. Just as the Doctor kissed Renette, Sherlock kissed me. At first I was taken aback by his sudden show of emotion, but eventually I just gave in and kissed back.

When I awoke the next morning, Sherlock's shirt was draped over me and an unfamiliar breath wafted the back of my neck. I turned to find that the breath belonged to Sherlock, his black tousles framed his angular face and the sheet pooled around his bare, thin waist. It took me a moment to register what had happened, but when i did I just smiled and snuggled back into Sherlock and the sheets.

Several hours later I reawakened to an empty bed and a quiet flat. before I stepped out I peered around the corner looking for John. I really didn't want him to know. Sherlock was only one home.

"Judging by the fact that you just checked the area before emerging, you want to keep last night a secret." Sherlock deduced as I strided into the room.

"Yeah, I suppose. For now at least." I smile as I sit next to him, "You didn't say anything to John, did you?"

"No," he smiles, "Secret is best, I think."

"Probably. You know I'd thought my first time would be different, but I quite enjoyed last night."

"Last night was your first," he just looked at me, eyes narrowed, then leaned back, "Mine too."

"Really?" I was actually surprised by this, "So The Woman didn't get to you then?"

"Not in the slightest." A smiled played across his lips,

I laughed, "Well wouldn't you know I've reached farther than the dominatrix."

"It seems you have."

"Listen, Sherlock, we could still, you know..." I trailed off.

"Have a relationship?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"I mean if you want. We'd have to keep it secret because of the media and well John."

"And Moriarty." I shuddered a bit as he spoke.

"Yes. I know relationships and caring aren't really your thing, but we could try."

"I don't see why not." we both smiled and I kissed him.

"I'm back. No milk, again." John called up the stairs.

"Shit." I whispered.

"It'll be fine. Go shower, now before he makes it up." he leaned back into his chair and I padded off, turning the corner jst as John walked in.

"Have you moved from this chair?"

"Not at all."

-Present-

I smiled and stifled a giggle, watching all the passing people. Some of them even talking about Sherlock's latest newsworthy feat, the recovery of the Reichenbach paintings.

'Oh little do you know off the great detective. Of how he is kind, gentle, and smiles in the night at something other than crimes.' I thought.

Later I returned home to find that the boys had swanned off to Dartmoor for a case. I spent the weekend in a quiet flat, anticipating the stories to come. And oh did they. When the boys returned it was late, but we spent the hours till morning sipping tea as they recounted stories of the Hound and the mysteries of Baskerville.

"You know John has a date tonight and Mrs. Hudson is at her sister's." Sherlock whispered the next morning as I prepared for my usual 'sneak back to my room before John wakes up'.

"Yeah, so?"

"You could do something if you want. I could, I don't know, put food on plates?" I laughed a bit.

"Sure, that sounds nice." I pecked him on the cheek and walked out. I smiled the whole way back to my room, "dating" Sherlock Holmes is quite the adventure.

**Till another time my little pretties.**

**Next up a tear jerker three to four part on Reichenbach.**

**Also quick note: I know it sounds like i'm shipping my OC with him because I want to be with him, but it is really for some plot points to come. So know you have been foreshadowed and warned.**


	10. Fall of a Great Man

**Hi, again!**

**Welcome to part one of the Reichenbach section!**

**Fair warning: there will be slash in this chapter.**

**Please R&R!**

"Sherlock, he's back." I went ridged at John's words , knowing exactly who he meant.

We arrived on the crime scene just as they were loading Moriarty into a police car. The boys protested, but there was no way they weren't letting me see this. Right before his final descent into the car seat Jim turned and looked at Sherlock, John, and finally me. He cocked his head and smiled, I have never been more freaked out in my life. Of course Donavon wouldn't let me into the crime scene so I got the joy of standing in the cold away from the warmth of the one person I needed to calm the shivers Jim sent down my spine, Sherlock.

That night as I laid across the couch with my head on Sherlock's lap, I began to cry out of nowhere.

"Tristan," Sherlock asked pushing the hair from my face, "Are you alright?"

"Maybe, I-I-I don't know."

"You don't know?" feelings still came as a small problem for Sherlock.

"It's Moriarty. He looked at me and sent shivers down my spine."

"Oh."

"It's like seeing him brings back memories. I physically hurt all over."

"Is that why you were so pissed off when Donavon wouldn't let you inside?"

"Yeah, I feel safer around you."

"Do you?" he smiled.

"Of course."

-Trial Day-

I sat silently and stared out the window as John gave Sherlock 'advice'. We were headed to the trial of James Moriarty or as Sherlock had started calling him 'The Spider'. John and I , having had been victims of Jim, were also asked to be witnesses, but neither of us wanted to relive the memories.

As we sat in the gallery I mentally prepared myself for 'The Spider's' arrival. Just as I expected he looked up at John and I with a smile blazoned across his face. I tensed up, but stayed strong like Sherlock told me to and mouthed 'You don't scare me' to him.

"Held in contempt! Held in bloody contempt! I don't know how you do it." I laughed that night after John went to bed. Sherlock just strummed his violin. "Tea?" another strum, "Food?" strum, "Tele?" strum, "Conversation?" strum, "God, I don't bloody care, sex?" strum, "C'mon Sherlock you can't just sit there all night." He looked up, rolled his eyes, and continued to strum. I gave up, sighed, and slipped into a chair. I stared at him in an attempt to find out what he was thinking. After what seemed like hours the strumming stopped and Sherlock looked up.

"Tristan?"

"Yes."

"I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Tomorrow at the trial, I know this will be hard for you, but I want your eyes on Jim the whole time. Ignore John, ignore the jury, and just focus on Jim."

"Why?

"I have a feeling he's going to get off and I want to know exactly what he does. I'd do it myself, but I can't for obvious reasons."

"Alright, I will. Do you want me to take notes or something?"

"That would be suspicious. You're clever, store it in your mind."

"Okay."

The next day I kept my eyes glued to Moriarty as he took his place. As expected he looked up at John and I flashing his signature smile. I glared straight into his eyes and smiled back.

'Stood there like he was a freaking king the whole time just as you expected. - TC'

"He hung up." John walked back over.

"He's expecting something then."

"How do you know that?"

"Cause I just do." I excused my slip up, "So food?"

"If he's expecting something we need to get back to Baker Street." John protested.

"No," Sherlock has asked me to stay away for at least an hour, "He'll want us out."

"What makes you think that?"

"That's the way he is. If Moriarty comes by, Sherlock will want him alone." I don't give John time to respond, I hail the passing cab, and shove him in.

That night Sherlock and I sat in his room while he thought. Suddenly Sherlock got up from his chair, walked over to me, and pinned me into a kiss.

"Sherlock?" I question, we may have been in a relationship, but he seemed overzealous in passion. Not that I was complaining.

"John and you took my patches," another kiss, "I need," another kiss, breathing had become heavy, "Stimulation." He pinned me into several more kisses as he laid directly on top of me. Feverent passion swelled inside both of us as I kissed him back. We tore into each other. A few button snaps later and well...

The next morning I opened my eyes to a bowl of to a tray with a bowl of cereal and a mug of tea. Remnants of last nights endeavors were strewn across the room.

"Breakfast. You'll want to eat." Sherlock was pacing the floor in front of the bed. I glanced at the clock, 12:00 pm, shit.

"Sherlock, John will be up."

"I told him you had early classes and he went out." Sherlock sat next to me, "Now eat." I laughed a bit.

"You made food, well cereal."

"Yes." he smiled. I ate while he just stared at me as if to make sure I liked it. I laid back as I finished.

"Did you eat?"

"No."

"You should."

"I don't need to."

"You do."

"I'm thinking."

"About Moriarty?"

"Yes. Back on the streets." He laid next to me and turned his head to mine.

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I haven't decided yet."

-2 months later-

I was walking to my rehearsal when a black town car pulled up beside me. I didn't really have time to chat with Mycroft, but I knew resistance was futile so I slid in. As if on cue my phone buzzed.

'Mycroft probably has you by now. He's taking you to the Diogenes Club. Whatever you do don't speak. - JW'

I arrived at the club to find Mycroft and John waiting for me. I checked my watch.

"Alright boys let's get started, I have to be at the theater in two hours." They both just stared at me, "C'mon I heard you two, I know we can talk in here." Even Mycroft was a little flustered.

"I suppose we should get started." He handed us a file. In what took about an hour John and I were 'delighted' to be informed that we have assassins for neighbors.

"You're going to have to tell him about our neighbors," I told John as we entered the car taking us to our respective destinations.

"Yeah I suppose." The rest of the ride was spent in uncomfortable silence and i breathed a sigh of relief when I exited.

Several hours later I departed from the theater only to be intercepted by a very confused and angry DI Greg Lestrade. Who proceeded to take me down to Scotland Yard.

"Where are they?"

"Where are who?" I asked leaning forward in my chair.

"Sherlock and John."

"What do you mean where are they? They're probably at home as usual. I haven't seen John since early afternoon and Sherlock not since this morning." Greg relaxed a little and his facial expression switched from angry to confused.

"You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" I looked at him with the most serious expression in my repertoire.

"Sherlock and John are fugitives."

"What?" The DI's response was probably one of the most horrific pieces of news I had ever received.

The morning brought my release and a tabloid completely discrediting Sherlock. Blazed on the cover was none other than Jim Moriarty's, or as the paper was saying Richard Brooke's, face. While detailed inside was Sherlock's life story with a few added twists.

'Sherlock, where are you? - TC'

My text received now response so I decided to check Baker Street. I entered the living room to be confronted by a gun and a pair of menacingly recognizable blue eyes. Sherlock had been helping me piece together some memories of my torture, so I recognize the man these eyes belong to almost instantly.

"Oh hello Sebastian. Nice to see you again." I smile at him, "Now could you put the gun down? We're all friends here." He retracted the weapon, but kept it in his hand.

"Ah yes well I can't kill you without orders first anyway." he ran his free hand through his sandy blonde hair.

"I suppose you're just Jim's little boy toy all around then." I know that sets him off a bit, but if he can't kill me without orders I might as well have some fun. "What was it he called you? Sebby?' he rolls his eyes, "Oh Jim," I mock, "It's so hot when you torture Sherlock's best friend."

"From what I hear Sherlock and you are more than just friends," he retorts.

"And from what I hear the same goes for you and Jim." his eyes narrow and he licks his lips.

"But then again I suppose you won't have your dear Sherlock after today."

"What?" my voice goes deep with anger.

"Well either my Jim is finishing him off or I finish you." he smiles.

"Is that right," I am throughly pissed now, "bitch?"

"Oh most definently. Either way our little couple will be no more." I don't even bother to come up with a retort, I just punch Sebastian Moran in square in the face, dear Jim's favorite Sebby feature. I head straight for the door.

"Goodbye asshole. Give a kiss to Jim for me." I flip him off as I strut down the stairs.

'St. Bart's, come quick. - JW'

I hail a cab and tell the driver to rush over to Bart's. I arrive just in time to see Sherlock step off the roof and plunge onto the concrete below. I spot John out of the corner of my tear stained eyes and bolt into a run following his path to Sherlock. As fellow onlookers fend John off I sneak around them and place on last unnoticeable kiss to Sherlock's lips.

I arrived back at Baker Street, still crying, several excruiatingly painful hours later and something inside me tells me I should check my phone. I crumple to the ground at the sight of two texts that sent too late.

'Goodbye my clever girl. I'll miss you. - SH'

"I want to make sure you know this before it happens, I love you. - SH'

**Well there you have it.**

**If you're not crying now, you will be.**

**Please review, feedback is nice.**

**:)**


	11. The Prestige  You Have to Bring It Back

**Hello again.**

**I realized that I keep forgetting a disclaimer so: I do not own Sherlock it's property of the Mofftiss and the BBC.**

**So anyway Reichenfeels time y'all.**

**Please Review.**

**The beggining quote and name for this chapter was inspired by a youtube video that was created by Liisakee called Are You Watching Closely? / Sherlock (go watch it, it's good) **

****

"Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called 'The Pledge'. The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called 'The Turn'. The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call 'The Prestige'."

- Opening line 'The Prestige'

-One Week Later-

"Would you just turn that off?" John screamed as he packed. I'd been playing violin music to fill the gap Sherlock had left.

"How about NO?" I screamed back. John and I hadn't stopped fighting since Sherlock.

"You're just maintaining that fiction that he's still here!"

"Yeah well maybe I need to!" I was near tears. He threw the rest of his stuff into his bag, John couldn't be near Baker Street anymore without falling to pieces or getting extremely angry. I, on the other hand, couldn't leave, I was truly in denial, I still secretly slept in his bed and listened to a ton of violin music.

"Oh don't act like you two were any closer than him and I were!"

"Actually we were closer than you every fucking knew!"

"What?"

"John before his death Sherlock and I were together."

"Haha, Sherlock is incapable of those kind of feelings," I broke into tears.

"See for yourself what kind of feelings he's capable of!" I shoved my phone at him, "And I loved him back and I never got the chance to tell him!" John dropped my phone to the floor.

"We are no longer friends. I can't believe you two kept this from me!" With that John gathered his stuff and stormed out. We haven't talked since.

-Two Weeks Later-

"I saw John the other day," Mycroft twirled his umbrella, "He told me some interesting news."

"Oh did he now?" I snarled. Mycroft was on some sort of customary 'sympathy' visit which I'm pretty sure was just Greg convincing him to check up on me considering I haven't left the flat in a month and Mrs. Hudson had gone to live with her sister indefinently.

"Yes."

"Look, Mycroft, I know sentimentality isn't your thing. Hell it was barely Sherlock's, but you're here because Greg asked you to check up on me. Just leave." The truth was that I was angry at everyone these days, but denial of the death of the one you loved will do that to you.

"Well then..." Mycroft stood, "What should I report to Greg?" I stared up at him with burning eyes.

"Tell him I'm fine."

"If you believe you are then I will."

"Of course I don't believe I'm fine," he sat back down, "You know what John told you."

"Ah yes. I was hoping you could elaborate on that."

'Bastard' I thought, "I could, but I'm not sure you'll want to hear." He stood again.

"No I suppose I don't. Well, I guess I'll come up with something to tell Greg." he twirled his umbrella again and walked out. People are hateful.

-John-

*sigh* John settled into his chair. 'One month,' he thought, 'One month since I lost everything.' He looked towards the drawer in his desk, the one that held his gun, 'No he wouldn't want it that way.'

-One Month Later-

'Depression seems to be my new emotion. Not that things have gotten any better, I tried going out of the flat once. Greg made me, I swore I saw you. No more after that. - TC'

My text received no reply as usual. Texting a dead man, isn't that some form of insanity?

-Next Day-

'My friends from before tried to stop by. I don't seem to be able to talk to anyone who didn't know you anymore. - TC'

*ring* My heart lept just momentarilly, but then I discovered that it was DI Lestrade.

"Hello?"

"Two months later and the press have flocked to your door."

"What?"

"John told them about you and Sherlock."

-John-

He rolled himself out of bed nursing what seemed to be a now constant hangover. However John knew what he had done. John Watson knew that in a druken rage he had further ruined his two best friends.

-One Week Later-

'I issued a retraction today. According to the papers our relationship was just rumors. I used all my power not to cry. - TC' I hadn't stopped crying since I got back to 221B. I flopped myself onto our old bed and smelt the scarf that I kept by me at all times.

'Your things still smell of you. All cinnamon, ginger, and chemicals. I wish I was smelling it on you. - TC'

-John-

He stared at his phone. Perhaps an apology was in order, but he didn't dare pick it up and dial.

-Two Weeks Later-

'I stood on top of Bart's today. Almost jumped, I couldn't. - TC'

-John-

'She almost jumped,' John thought to himself after his call with Molly Hooper. That would have been two lost to the same fate.

-Three Months Later-

Violin music. I opened my eyes. It's been half a year and I still haven't been able to get over the hole he left.

'Must have left one of the CDs playing.' I thought as I pulled on my sweats and stepped out. I stared in disbelief at the tall figure who was making the music. A figure I recognized all to well. Shakily I tried to grab my bearings.

"Sh-sh-sh-Sherlock?"

Bum bum bum...so he's back what will happen, how will Tristan react?


	12. Seeing Things

**Hi again.**

**Welcome to the third to last chapter.**

**Some notes: **

**Someone recently informed me that slash is the term for homosexual ships only so sorry for the confusion in the last chapter. **

**At the end of Chapter 9 Sherlock says "You could do something." that should be "We could do something."**

**That M rating is mostly for this chapter, but well chapter and 10 also included some of that, but of course you've already read them.**

**If you don't have 'The Impossible Astronaut' by Murray Gold I suggest looking it up on YouTube and listening to it.**

**That is all. Now onto the answer to last chapter's cliffhanger.**

****

"No, no, no. You're not here!" I freaked, "I'm going insane!"

"Tristan," Sherlock 'the ghost' stood, "I'm real. Most definitely."

"no you're dead. You can't be real."

"Could I do this if I wasn't real?" He pulled a small pocket knife out and pricked his just enough to draw blood.

"Oh, I suppose not." Snapping out of my shock, I circled him surveying every inch, my anger growing with each step. The emotion took hold and I punched Sherlock in the face. "You bastard!"

"Tristan, calm down. Listen please." he said as he nursed his injury. I had given him a bloody nose.

"No, I will not calm down! Six fucking months Sherlock! I only left this flat twice! You broke me!"

"I'm sorry," he stepped forward. I recoiled.

"You're sorry! My life ended when you jumped of that roof! Did you know that John and I aren't talking? We couldn't stop fighting after you." I could feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes, "Six months, Sherlock. Six months living with the fact that I love you too." I broke down. Sherlock stepped forward and hugged me, six months had changed him too.

"I'm so sorry," he kissed me, "I love you."

-John-

Six months and John Watson had finally realized that maybe he wasn't in love with Sherlock Holmes. He smiled. He had a date tonight with a lovely woman named Mary.

-Me-

For six months I was dead, broken, gone,and completely without something to hold my emotions in place. I had shelved up my brain like Sherlock had, sitting for hours deleting unimportant aspects of everyday life. I used my acting skills to put up a front against the constant chatter of press and people that has tossed away Sherlock with the papers who never seemed to be away from Baker Street or seemed to have anything better to do that sit outside and discredit a brilliant mind. Three months in I had everything shelved so I pushed through the throng and hailed a cab. I climbed the steps, bypassing Molly Hopper's pleas of 'Hello' and 'How are you', I stepped onto the same ledge where my life stood three months earlier and breathed. I looked down at the passer-bye as they walked past the spot where my love laid unknowing of the great mind that bled out there and sneered. I flicked my iPod onto 'The Impossible Astronaut' by Murray Gold, it was a tune that found sad undertones perfect for the situation, and swayed. I raised my right foot and prepared to release the left when I halted. I set the right foot down and stepped off the ledge.

Now with one kiss Sherlock Holmes had broken the defenses I had put up and that same Murray Gold tune rung in my ears. I was laying crumpled and broken on the ground while arms I had missed for six months encircled me mending the broken pieces. Soft lips that had been lost were now curving out three little words. All emotion took over and I pushed forward crushing those lost lips onto mine,

"I missed you." I whispered as he held me closer.

"I missed us." Sherlock whispered as he carried me to the couch. There was something new forming in those ice blue eyes. They were glinting with a new sort of light, tears.

"Sherlock, are you crying?"

"Happy crying. how humany wumany of me." he quoted the Christmas Special that after six months he would have forgotten me showing him, deleted it. I laughed.

"You didn't delete that?"

"Of course not, it was time I spent with you."

"You've changed." I sputtered out.

"I have..." he looked almost confused.

"Sh...for the better."

"Oh I suppose maybe I have. Probably hormones in the brain caused by love..." he trailed inching forward till he planted a passionate kiss on me. Six months of pent up emotions took over the both of us. I grabbed the lapels of his now unbuttoned shirt and smashed Sherlock's lips to mine. We chucked whatever remained of our clothes to the floor as we made our way to the bedroom. The familiar smell of ginger, cinnamon, and chemicals that seemed to follow Sherlock filled my nose as we laid on our old bed. never letting go of each other. Our passion let us go way into the night until we both retired in each others arms.

I flecked my eyes open afraid that it was all a dream, but the thin arms that laid around my waist indicated otherwise.

"Good morning, Sherlock." his lids fluttered open.

"Good morning." Neither of us wanted to leave that moment so we laid each others arms and smiled, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Jumping."

"Don't be. In a way I knew you had to. I'm just glad you're back."

"You knew about the snipers?" he questioned.

"Well I figure when one comes face-to-face with Sebastian Moran telling you that he is awaiting the signal to kill you, it's a pretty good indicator of Moriarty forcing you into something."

"He gave you his Sebby? Interesting."

"Knew all about us too, which is probably why Moriarty sent his lover in the first place."

"And what did you do?"

"I told him off and punched him in the face. The usual."

"That's my girl."

"So while I was creating my own find palace, what did you do for half a year?"

"Took down Moriarty's organization and tried to clear my name."

"So that's why the crowd has been thinning. I'm glad you've cleared your name. It's hot when you're thinking about a case."

"Is it?"

"Entirely. Should we tell the others you're alive?"

"Except John, we have to wait a little longer before we tell him."

"Why?" *ring* Sherlock didn't get a chance to answer as my phone interrupted. "It's Mycroft."

"Answer. Invite him over, I suppose I should get him over and done with." I picked up.

"Hello Mycroft...that's nice...why don't you two come over...alright see you soon."

"Two?" Sherlock asked as I hung up.

"Yes, your brother and Greg, who finally popped the question."

Greg and Mycroft took the news better than expected and we laughed as they let us in on their secret. The happy couple had eloped to a court house marriage a month ago.

"Marriage is funny." I laughed as I made my way back up the stairs, "Mycroft seems happier."

"So does Lestrade." Sherlock plopped on an indicative one knee and fumbled in his pocket, "I've had six months to think. Would you do me the honor?" Sherlock pulled out a shiny sapphire ring that matched his eyes, my own eyes began to well up with humany wumany tears.

"Yes, of course." I kissed him as he slipped the ring on. I now would never again lose my dear Sherlock and he would never lose me.

****

**Next Chapter for John's reaction.**

**And then an epilogue.**

**Please review.**


	13. Life Resumes and We Tell Him

**I really have now true excuse for not getting this up sooner, I had writer's block for a while and that's all.**

**These last two chapters are not the best, but every story needs an ending so...**

**XXXX**

Next up on the "Sherlock's Alive Tour" was Mrs. Hudson who nearly had a heart attack. Then we told her about the engagement and she rattled on for hour about plans. Eventually she headed downstairs, still rattling on about color schemes.

"That's the simple ceremony out the window." I laughed, Sherlock smiled.

"Yes, there's no way we can disappoint the landlady."

-Two Weeks Later-

"We have to tell John."

The next day we took a solemn cab ride over to John's address, which we obtained from Mycroft. As we approached Sherlock went ridgid and I laid my hand on his. I looked down at the other and turned my ring around. Sherlock nodded knowingly as the cab came to a halt. We stepped out, hiding our clasped hands behind his coat. As we reached the door our hands released and Sherlock stepped to a spot out of viewpoint. I reached up and knocked on the door nervously, I felt almost like crying.

"Hello," the figure at the door wasn't John, but a smiling woman with short, red hair.

"Uh..hi," I was completely flustered, "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong address. I was looking for John Watson."

"Oh no, you've got the right place. Let me go get him." The woman turned into the house leaving the door open. I turned quickly to Sherlock, who shrugged and mouthed, 'Girlfriend?' I moved again just in time to see John walking toward the door.

"Tristan?" his voice was confused, but there was the slightest bit of anger that made me want to run.

"Yes, hello John," I gulped.

"Hello...so what are you doing here?"

"I have something to show you," and with that Sherlock stepped out of his hiding place. John looked as though he was about to faint, but instead he started to cry.

"John, it's nice to see you," Sherlock said through tears.

Several hours later it was like old times again. John introduced the woman as Mary Morastan, his girlfriend, and even seemed happy when we told him about the engagement. We departed with glad promises to to see each other for dinner tomorrow. Sherlock actually smiled the whole way home.

"You know, you may have me, but the detective's nothing without his blogger." I kissed him, everything was back the way it should be.

**XXXX**

**So next chapter will be the epilogue.**

**Please tell me what you think.**


	14. Church Bells: Epilogue

**It's Epilogue Time.**

**It's been wonderful, I had a ton of fun writing this story!**

**Love you guys!**

**XXXX**

-Two Months Later-

"Nervous?" John asked Sherlock as he straightened his tie.

"No," Sherlock lied. He fiddled with the purple flower that was affixed to his jacket.

Across the hall Molly and MAry were asking me the same question as we tied the matching purple ribbon around my waist. No family was there, save Mycroft, Sherlock refused to invite his parents and the second my mother found out who I was marrying, she flipped, but that was fine with us. Close friends and a small ceremony followed by a (as a big joke)mystery dinner party. was all we wanted. It was perfect, I smiled.

"Only a little."

-Three Months Later-

"Nervous?" It was Sherlock's turn to ask John the same question. John was marrying Mary and Sherlock and I couldn't be happier. Life had resumed back to normal, well normal for Sherlock.

**XXXX**

**Well then that's it.**

**I hoped you enjoyed this.**


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